I’m a messy Christian, the kind that’s mismatched
Flash danced, grooves scratched – too much vintage on blast
All five generations of us alive
in one small bleached, concrete room
filled with prayer beads and penance
alive with the death of things
Not one of us allowed by our full names
At the height of my burnout I emailed a dear writing colleague and confided in her, “I’m burnt out on Christianity. I don’t want to write anything that has to deal with faith anymore.”
When the war is over and the ground tilled
a new bloom will make home in her spirit
Ma reminds me of struggle and strife
Take care of your own and to God the rest.
It’s #FiveMinuteFriday at Kate Motaung’s place. The word prompt is MORE. I’m not a prose kind of person at 4:00 a.m.
This is how you find me/open hands, gathering/vestiges of paper-thin soul/visible deep creases/I used to be a paper crane.